


It's Complicated

by opti



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Multiple Orgasms, Office Sex, One Shot Collection, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-05-25 16:16:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6202285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opti/pseuds/opti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their relationship is complicated, and sometimes it really isn't. Sometimes it's just Ann, and just Chris, and what could be better than that?</p><p>  <i>A collection of smut, PWP's, and all manner of filth I accumulate involving these two!</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Refresher Course (Office sex)

**Author's Note:**

> Look, there's almost no Traegerkins fic in existence. The way I look at it, that's just cruel. Not to me, really, but to everyone else. Though also to me, but whatever that's not the point. There's even less smut. Which, if you're considering the two characters involved, is frankly disappointing and downright depressing.
> 
> Anyways, the point is this: I occasionally write Ann/Chris smut. I would like somewhere to offload that in the same way that I do for April/Andy in [Whole Lotta Love.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3610086)
> 
> Here ya go.

When Ann set up the meeting -- an emergency meeting, even -- she expected to lure Chris into  _her_ office. There were blinds now, so it wouldn't be that bad. Instead, she gets a response telling her that he's swamped and if she wants something she'll have to come by his office later. 

 _Oh, I want something all right_ , Ann thought while typing back to him furiously.  _I will get that meeting_ _, dammit._

When she storms into Chris's office, he's standing with his bluetooth earpiece in and chatting someone up. She half-expects him to break into a jog there. Half expecting or half wanting, Ann isn't sure. He's dressed as usual -- a nicely fitting buttoned shirt tucked in like he's not fourteen and about to go to his first school dance, hair feathered, and that trademark Traeger smile adorning his face. He finishes his call, and turns to her. His smile never wanes, and Ann's hunger doubles.

"I got your email earlier, and I am so  _incredibly_ sorry that I couldn't meet with you then," he explains in his usual, hurried voice. Chris always sounds genuine, though. "I know you understand, and I'm thrilled we could reschedule. So, what's this all about?"

 As he says that, Chris hops onto his desk. The little motion gives her time to let her eyes drift, wander down to the tight-fitting dress slacks that accentuate the lean heft of his calves and the way he taps the backs of his feet against his desk, not out of impatience but from sheer energetic excitement. Her plan wasn't very well-formed. Hell, in her head the whole idea at first was to get him into her office, go down on him, and move on. It felt like that's all she wanted, and seeing his body masked by the usual, basic work attire only refreshed that feeling.

"I..." she starts without knowing where she's going in the first place. She can barely get her eyes to match his stare. "It's very important, and, I think that, uh--" Ann looks over at the open door and stands up, trying to show her assertiveness here. "I think we should close the door."

"Oh, it's that serious?" Chris asks while she gets up and manages to let out that nervous breath just as his office door clicks closed.

"It's extremely serious," she echoes with a chuckle. "I think it's so super serious that I emailed you about it earlier, and now I'm here and I am very..."

"Worried?" Chris attempts to gauge the situation, but Ann isn't having any of it.

Instead of answering him with words, Ann walks forward and leans in for a kiss. Though it surprises him, Chris whispers something against her lips before sinking into the sensation of their lips meeting. Ann forces her brain not to screech to a halt, remembering that he hasn't even opened his mouth for her. Her hands go to his shirt, unbuttoning quickly before he stops her.

 _Oh crap,_ she can't help but think instantly.  _Bad idea, Perkins..._

"Ann, I thought...?"

"We're technically not dating, but that doesn't mean anything," she tells him, rushed and eager to work away his shirt.

"This is also highly inappropriate for a work setting," Chris says, though Ann picks up how half-hearted he is and pounces on him again. He doesn't seem to mind, his hands almost attached to her hips and gripping her like he's missed this. Ann tries not to think about that.

"I mean, what I want to do is highly inappropriate in a work setting," Ann mocks him with a smile, and Chris returns it with his beaming grin. She's one button down, looking at the upper edge of his undershirt and wondering how he's reacting to all of this. She wonders hopefully that he's getting the idea here. "Like, crazy inappropriate."

"Is this what your meeting was about?" he asks, and Ann catches him lick his lip quickly and snatch a peek at the fairly low neckline of her shirt. 

"I was hoping you'd come by my office and that I would..." Ann hesitates, unsure if she could produce the words correctly. Dirty talk was always kind-of funny to her, but right now it seemed right. "I was hoping that you'd come by and I could seduce you into just taking a breather."

"A breather?" Chris asks, followed by a light bit of laughter. "Ann Perkins, your wit and humor is always so admirable..."

"I was talking about you taking a breather because from my position--" she leans down, kissing the bit of his jawline that always elicits that same soft moan from Chris. When she's rewarded with that curious little noise, Ann smiles against his skin and leans up to whisper into his ear. "I was going to get you in my office, and close the blinds," she murmurs in his ear, stopping to bite at him tenderly. Chris's hand reaches underneath the back of her shirt and his hand stays against her skin. "I was going to lock the door so nobody could interrupt me. I wanted you, Chris." 

"But we're not--"

"Don't complicate this," Ann whispers, enjoying this sudden exertion of dominance and power with Chris sitting on his desk and her hand kneading circles around him. He was still a bit soft in her palm, but her words seemed to be turning him on more and more. "You want it too, I can tell," she says and walks one finger up to the button of his pants while kissing and whispering intermittently. "I wanted you there, I wanted to get down on my knees in my office and suck your cock right then and there."

Chris inhales just then, Ann taking him out of his underwear and into the slightly cool City Hall air. She wraps her fingers around his thickening shaft, stroking once before stilling with her fist around him just to feel him grow in her hand.

"Ann," he breathes, barely a sound and more of a plea than anything.

"I thought it was highly inappropriate?" Ann mimics him from before, trying her very best not to look down and ogle his dick.

"Very."

"And yet I'm pretty sure you've got a boner for me, dude--"

"Ann..."

"What? Say it," she whispers, bringing her other hand to help work his pants down and off until he's bare from the waist down and he sits out hard in the air. "I know you wanna say it..."

"This is--"

"Don't complicate it," Ann repeats as a warning. At this point he's naked, she's been giving him a feeble handjob, and her mouth is as wet as she is right now. This can't get screwed up.

"Your terms are one-hundred percent..." he trails off as Ann slips her heels off and crouches to her knees. She teases her lips against his head, rolling him against her mouth and watching his breath shatter as he reaches peak hardness against her mouth. "They are  _very_ agreeable."

Ann takes that as her signal and runs her tongue up his length. The dreamy body of Chris Traeger tightens underneath her, the taut thighs under one palm deliciously firm while she languishes his cock with a stroke of her tongue, and Ann has to restrain herself from crying out in giddy delight. Ever since a bit before lunch, she's had a little  _something_ in the back of her mind. It was a spare urge, so she thought it would go away. By the time her meeting was rescheduled she was fantasizing about any number of attractive men in City Hall bending her over a desk. But one rose above all, and it was this desire -- to be in front of Chris, bobbing gently so that she can taste every inch of him.

That's all it was supposed to be, at least. She even has the idea while tasting precome on her next lurid sweep of him, tongue swirling at his tip where he was hottest and his cock could easily bore into her throat if she wanted. However, it  _was_ all day and the reality of a sexy, exasperated Chris Traeger whispering curses and holding the back of her head only turned her on more.

He looks down her shirt, and Ann considers revealing herself before resolving that she enjoys watching him try and stare at her breasts. It only heightens that need, knowing that Chris wants to see her fully like this. She _could_ get him off like this, have him empty in a moment with hands and mouth. However, Ann has other ideas.

It doesn't take much convincing Chris afterward. By the time she's standing, he's whispering, "Yes." It's strong, and his hands are stronger at her skirt until she's free as well. He growls, that musk of fine living emanating from him just as powerfully and yet similarly, quiet. " _Yes_ ," he repeats, animalistic, and turns them around so that Ann is leaning against his desk. "Ann Perkins, I will always say it every time we... I am blessed with this encounter..."

She chuckles, shakes her head, and tries hiding the blush in her cheeks.

"But your body is such a magnificent counterpart to your incredible mind," Chris waxes poetic for a moment longer, but Ann misses it because he hooks his fingers underneath her panties and helps her out of them.

"Pocket," she warns him as Chris leans forward to unbutton her blouse. 

"Right," he nods and leans down gracefully, bending backward a bit and the motion lets his dick sit between her thighs in a heavenly form of annoying taunting. Chris unwraps the condom she had in her pocket (though Ann ignores the hazards of what she did) and Ann helps stroke it onto him. 

"Better," she says, smirking.

"Better."

When Chris lifts her onto the desk, her legs naturally contour to his chest. With her ankles dangling over his shoulders, he pushes forward. Chris sinks into her, and Ann doubles down on her theory that she couldn't handle just sucking him off today. As nice as that little power fantasy was, Ann revels in the fullness and when Chris practically busts her shirt open with his hands to lean down and kiss between her breasts it's over. 

He thrusts forward once, carefully, before working up a rhythm that carries her into a startling release. Ann cries out, moving her hand to grab his, hold them together, and work towards her clit until they were both gently rubbing her in sync with his thrusts. Nimbly, Chris repositions her legs so that she's on her side and every inch of his cock is spreading her, fat around him. The slap of skin against skin is louder, and Ann ignores the jiggling of body parts because Chris has that supreme ecstasy across his face and she can only focus on his hand at her clit.

"Chris," she whispers, trying to come up with something better but falling short when she has to bury her face in the back of her hand to avoid from shrieking out. 

She can tell that another stroke, just one more sensation of Ann's pussy milking him, would send Chris over the edge. He stills, and they lock eyes before he pulls back and pumps gently into her again. It's soft, and Chris leans down to cup his lips against her breast through her bra. His free hand has no time to reach behind her back, and Ann is lost in his girth and fullness to care about it anymore. He would have to wait till their next meet to see or feel her tits fully, but right now she can only lean back against the desk in her folded position and let that relaxing wave work its way back up as Chris slows down and gives one last, heavy thrust with a grunt and stills inside of her.

After a minute of breathing, Chris finally stands up to his full height. Slowly, he pulls out of her. Ann whimpers all the while, sad at the loss of weight inside of her until Chris crouches in that very same spot and spreads Ann's legs with his hands.

In the back of her mind, Chris's mouth nestled between her legs and tongue buried in her, Ann could only pat herself on the back for the booty call well done.


	2. Phenomenal Core Strength

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone ask for a little Traegerkins? How about with a spice of man-on-top 69'ing? No? Well, too gosh darn bad for you.
> 
> Yes, I know! I don't write that frequently for these two, but that's primarily due to a lack of requests. I tend to write better under pressure :D

That was his excuse. That was honestly his reason. In the middle of bed, between the sheets, his musculature was his reasoning. Of course it was.

"I have  _spectacular_ core strength, Ann," he remarks, his voice shifted from his usual ecstatic to a bit more lusty, dark ecstatic. There was pretty much red and redder with Chris, not much shade between. "I swear, if it is uncomfortable we can do whatever you like."

"You  _know_ what I'd like," she whispers back, taking his hand and setting it between her legs. He conforms readily to her bare skin, barest of them all, and his finger is impatient. "But..." she takes a deep breath, "I haven't had a taste in what feels like forever."

Her mischievous eyes set him off, and Chris takes the most absurd speed and precision in his sexual planking. Ann can only laugh at his figure, as tight and breathtaking as it was, in this flat position above her. He rethinks his position after a little reminder what they were doing, and his adorable look of a silent  _eureka!_ is too damn good. It's cute, but the way he drags himself along her is oddly hot. Sure, Chris  _is_ sexy, but it was more in the way he held himself, and for that matter her. She wasn't on a pedestal, or rather they were  _both_ on the pedestal here. He looked to her like he would his closest confidant, and looked at her like he wanted to be ever closer to her. His impressive length settles against her cheek, and Ann snorts out a laugh. 

She resists the urge to tap his balls and watch them swing limply. The mental picture is funny enough, at least until his mouth sets at her.

The position means one thing, and one thing only: her clit is queen. In fact, it is. Ann's kingdom of flesh or whatever the hell it was she was supposed to regard her body as is ruled by her. Chris, naturally, proves ultimately subservient and loyal to his queen. His lips pepper idle kisses, suck lightly, and he nibbles gently in the way that Ann groans about constantly.

And that's when she remembers her part of the deal.

"So," she whispers against his cock. He's pulsing against her moving, speaking lips. Ann delights in this bit of exquisite pain, indulging in her own existential delight between her legs and against his mouth. "You wanna do what with this monster now?"

"Oh Ann! Your wit is so delightful," Chris assures her. He lifts his hips for a second and Ann sighs before taking another long breath. "Ready?"

"Hell yeah," she tells him, and opens up for the full bore of his cock into her throat.

If he wasn't between her legs, devilish tongue at her pussy, this wouldn't work. But, frankly, the obscenity of it all thrills Ann for once. The most "hardcore" she ever got was doggy style, as fun as that was, and now she's swallowing a sword. Literally. Chris's girth was no force to be reckoned with, and her mouth was watering over at so many thoughts of come, getting fucked from behind afterwards, and just so many unlocked perverted ideas that she chokes out but barely dislodges him from her throat. 

Ann swallows him whole after a breath, his wet dick slipped into her still fist. Chris thrusts into her palm, and Ann whines in a hoarse whisper for  _more_.

Chris acquiesces, his tongue lengthwise down all of her. His muscles bulge in frightening physical manifestation. The ripples of his core, naturally driven by his primal desire for a better body that Ann gets to enjoy (thank _fuck_ , she thinks with his cock welcome back between her lips and his mouth feasting upon her once more), seem ready to split at their sinewy seams.

Ann writhes around him again, forcing him further into her mouth. The friction is too much for him, but Ann can't let him go that easily. He spills alongside her mouth, down her cheek, and onto their bed.

After they both take deep breaths, Chris especially, he looks at his mess and then at Ann. "That was a wonderful feat of lung capacity, Ann Perkins!"

She shakes her head, and advises him to test his own once more. Chris obliges, sinking to his knees at the foot of the bed.


End file.
